


Good Neighbors

by OhBelieveYouMe



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: 20s something Rafael Barba, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, He's a peach but not like you wouldn't expect that, more than friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhBelieveYouMe/pseuds/OhBelieveYouMe
Summary: Per Request:HERE,re: Living near Rafael in your 20s & losing touch, then meeting again.





	1. Good Neighbors: Before

**Author's Note:**

> [ _Tumblr post_ ](http://ohbelieveyoume.tumblr.com/post/156459001007/rafael-barba-good-neighbors)

Who was at your door?

You hopped up off your chaise, and tip-toed around the scattered records on the floor. It was a Saturday, and you didn’t have any classes or other responsibilities to worry about today- a complete rarity in your life. Which would explain why you were in the position you were; lounging sleepily around in a simple little emerald sundress, nursing your second glass of white wine, and tapping out a joint that one of your friends from school had gifted you for helping her with a paper.

Up to your toes, and you took a peek through the hole in the door. A handsome brunette boy about your age was rocking from foot to foot, holding a little brown box in his arms. He didn’t look familiar, you thought absently, but didn’t think he looked particularly _dangerous_ either. Kinda cute, not that it mattered much. Handsome strangers were rare, and rarely interested in you.

“Hello, how may I help you?” You lay against the edge of the door after opening it, and peered down curiously at his arms. “Whatchya got there?”

He jumped, mostly surprised you had introduced the conversation with questions instead of… well, an introduction. “Oh, uh, this got delivered to my apartment, I’m new here-” The box was held out towards you, and he tapped at the name in the _delivery_ field. “That’s not me,” he pointed out further, which you could have assumed- it was your name there, not his.

“Oh aren’t you sweet?” You happily retrieved the parcel, and bundled it under one arm so you could prop it against your hip. “You’re better than UPS, aren’t you?”

“Uh,” he laughed nervously, and ran a hand along the back of his neck. “I guess I can just read better than them…” His nose crunched, was that supposed to be a joke? It was a bad one, but he seemed well aware, so you chose not to tease him about it.

“I’m ( _Your Name_ ),” you finally broke the silence, and held out your free hand for him to shake. He did, and you could tell he was trying not to be nosy as your music poured out of the open door.

“Rafael,” he offered gently, and smiled sweetly when you beamed right back at him. “Rafael Barba.”

“Wellll, new-around-here Rafael Barba;” since there really wasn’t anything more interesting to do, you kicked the door you had been lazily lying against open, and grandiosely motioned towards the inside of the threshold. “You have time for a drink, or some tea?”

His eyes went wide, but he happily wandered in at the offer. “That definitely depends,” he saw the bottle on the counter, and jumped a bit when the door went shut behind him- “What’re you drinking?”

Your nose crunched; did you really want your new neighbor to know you spent your free Saturdays day drinking? Hell, why not? “Moscatoooo~” you sang while rocking your head side to side. While still awaiting his answer, you went to the cabinets, and moved aside a couple cook books to pull an extra glass out from hiding. It had been awhile since you had company.

“I’d love a glass,” Rafael conceded cheerily, and took no shame as he went through the literature you had set aside. “You have three books dedicated to _cupcakes_?”

Your bobbed your shoulders, and poured him a glass of wine while topping off your own. “Cupcakes are really underrated,” it was a topic of conversation you had tried to argue at a bar before, but nobody really cared about the complications of baked goods. Except for you, that is. “Creating a perfect cupcake isn’t easy, Mr. Barba,” you slid the glass his way, and noticed he was actually watching and listening as you went on. “My goal is to perfect mine.”

“So you’re a baker?” He took a hefty sip of your cheap wine, and tipped the glass your way in thanks. Eagerly, you clinked your own drink against his, and giggled before swallowing to finalize your ‘cheers’. 

“Will be one day.” After taking a seat at the little table you had set up between the kitchen and living area, you pointed across at the spare chair for him. “What about you, what’re you gonna be when you grow up?”

Rafael obliged you by taking the seat, and took a moment to soak in his surroundings. You had been there a couple years now; the signs of living were obvious, but so were the personalized touches. He’d never admit it, ( _at least not until a year or two later while trading shots with you after a particularly difficult day at school_ ) but it was surprisingly reassuring to know you lived alone. “A lawyer is goal one. Judge _when I grow up_.”

You sassily sashayed your shoulders, and he chuckled at your taunt. “Mister hot shot law student, eh?” He only nodded, and watched you carefully in anticipation of further commentary. “Guess that means you’ll be too buried in your books to ever visit a friendly neighbor?”

He shrugged, and sat his glass down atop a little vanity tray you had placed as a centerpiece. “I have a feeling I’ll be able to make time for someone like you… if you enjoy drinking on Saturdays as much as you seem to,” his point aimed towards the empty bottles you had lining the top of your cabinets, the nicer types of wine you had been able to get your hands on in the past. 

Well this appeared to be the start of quite a lovely friendship. 

* * *

You tapped out a show tune on his door, and it only took a couple seconds for him to answer; “You got sugar?”

“Are you serious?” Why did he sound like he thought you were lying? His eyebrow perked, and he opened the entrance wider to reveal he was only wearing a pair of pajama pants.

Maybe that meant he was waking up and making coffee- so what you needed should be readily available. You held up the measuring cup, and plumped out your lip in a pout. “Yessir, I’m makin’ something.”

While chuckling, he held open his door, and you slipped right in without awaiting any further permission. “What are you so busy making?”

“Cookies,” nosily, you sauntered through the small apartment- it wasn’t much larger than your own at all. Mostly the same layout, too, but he had less places to sit. Actually, most notable was the large bookshelf against the far wall where you kept your music collection in your own replica of the room. It was filled to the brim, and you bent at the waist to get a better look at the carefully organized spines. “Chocolate chip aaaaand snickerdoodle-”

The conversation was interrupted by a young woman wandering into the living room. Your eyes went wide, and a hot blush rose to your cheeks before you twist to take a peek at your neighbor, who had already made his way to the kitchen to retrieve the requested ingredient. She was fully dressed, in a nice cerulean skirt and jacket set that looked like something the ladies who ate at the restaurant you worked at wore, and was busy plucking pearl earrings in her lobes. Maybe you did prefer men, but it was undeniable- the woman was gorgeous.

Without acknowledging you, or saying anything to the now-absent apartment owner, she helped herself out. You watched the door as it shut, and bit on your bottom lip. She was really, _really_ pretty: is that the kind of women Rafael managed to reel in?

Upon coming back from the kitchen, he shook the bag of sugar in front of his face, apparently unconcerned with having missed the leaving of his guest. “Here you go, but-” you had gone to reach for it, yet just before you could take the sack, he held it up high above your head. The shift had been a surprise, and you nearly tumbled against his chest in pursuit- you had to stop yourself from falling by putting your hand against his sternum.

“Buuuuuuuut,” you prompted for a continuation, suspiciously cocking your head to the side as he wriggled his eyebrows while smirking down at you.

Rafael bowed forward, so your noses nearly touched; “I want some when they’re done… if you’re gonna be a famous baker one day, I get to be the test subject.”

Oh fine, that would work. Your eyes rolled and you jumped up to steal the sugar from his grip. “Okay, okay, okay.” It wouldn’t be a problem, there would be plenty of leftovers. “Should I bring some extra for your ’ _caliente_ ’-” he had just recently taught you that one about a week ago; he had been doing his homework and complaining about the weather while sitting on your chaise since the breeze was nicer in your apartment than his, so he claimed- “lil lady who just walked through?”

His green eyes immediately rolled to the ceiling as he sighed dramatically, and dropped his hands to your shoulders so he could spin you around and guide you back towards the door. “Don’t worry ‘bout her, she ain’t no one important,” he leaned his cheek against the back of your head, and happily sauntered along behind you until he reached past your waist to twist the doorknob for you. “Look at you speaking Spanish, miss know-it-all. Eres tan bonita como ella ( _You’re as pretty as she is_ ).”

Your turn to sigh, and you fluttered your fingers by his face to dismiss him and his apparent  _need_  to be smarter than you are. “Alright, alright fine. I’ll bring cookies and your sugar back later today.” While your hand was so close, you pat at his cheek, and he grinned cheesily while watching you walk back to your place.

Per the usual, he waited until you made it in to your apartment before closing his door.

* * *

You opened the door after hearing someone practically fall against it, it was more a demanding thud than a knock. The moment you opened the entrance, none other than Rafael Barba tumbled through and landed on your floor.

“What’re you doin’ down there?” You giggled and poked at his shoulder with your toes. “Happy to see ya, take a load off…”

“I went out-” he held his hand up into the air, a finger boldly pointing up towards the ceiling. “I learned I should **not** drink Tequila,” well that was a good lesson, they should really teach that at his fancy school. “And I am an irresponsible bum.”

“Oh are ya?” thoughtfully, you kicked at the bottom of his shoes, so he’d be convinced to pull his legs up and allow you to shut your door. Wasted Rafael was a lot more interesting when you didn’t have to worry about bothering neighbors. “Tequila only makes you irresponsible if you revisit it _after_ learning this lesson.”

He rolled to his side, and laughed loudly. It was precious and innocent, he had a voice made to roar. Apparently that was funny, you wished he always found you so hilarious. “But I-” he tried to catch his breath, to stammer an explanation through his laughter, “I-”.

Oh this was gold, you suddenly didn’t mind the late night interruption. Crouching beside him, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, and rocked his head side to side. “You’re fuckin’ sloshed.” How you wished you had a camera.

“I forgot my keys!” His arms went up, so he could coil fingers around your wrist, and he pulled you down with him onto the floor so he could gather you into a hug. “And you were **home** , how **_perfect_** is that!?” At least he was a happy-Tequila-drinker.

The hardwood made your knees sore when it met your fall. “Perfect, apparently,” you pat hard at his back, hoping to solidify the end of your hug, and made a genuine effort to pull away. “So are you asking for a phone or do you just wanna crash?”

“I have a _little_ secret,” he didn’t let you go. Instead, he forced you downwards so he could press his nose against your temple and speak directly into your ear- without allowing you to get up. No, you had to squirm against the floor, but it was worth it, “I can sneak in my apartment through the **_fire escape_**.”

Why was that a secret? “S _oooo_ you wanna crash on the couch?”

Rafael nodded, which bobbed your head right along with it since he still had his nose against you. “You smell pretty,” he added randomly while landing a hand over the opposite side of your face so he could keep you close as he further examined the discovery, and inhaled whilst snuggling shamelessly closer. “Huele a flores ( _smells like flowers_ ).”

You had no clue what that meant, but for some reason the foreign language sent an odd shiver down your spine. Time to end this before you got any silly ideas. “Ooookay, Rico Suave, let’s get off the damn floor.” With two fingers, you pushed his face away from yours, and giggled when he groaned in disapproval.

“ _Rico Suave_ my ass,” He rose to sitting, at least that was an improvement, and went to use your counter for leverage as you scrambled away to collect pillows and blankets.

You would have sworn you were only gone for a few minutes, but by the time you returned to your living room- you had lost him. How? “Rafael?” Slowly, on tip toes as if you’d accidentally tumble over him if you weren’t cautious, you took a peek around. There weren’t many places to hide, sincerely, so you glanced under your coffee table. Your chaise was bare, and he didn’t appear to be curled up anywhere on the floors. “ _Raffiiii-_ ” You called for him louder, and added a dog-whistle for effect. “C'mere boy, where’d the Tequila take ya?”

A grunt, coming from the hallway. You rushed towards the sound until you could hear him _singing;_  your name, very loudly, in a tune that you thought was vaguely familiar. Was that from an old movie you had seen before, or had he made it up? Whatever it was, you’d be damned, but you did kinda like it.

Rafael was in your bed, happily lounged atop the comforter and on your pillows.

“Get outta’ there, dogs get the couch,” you hollered while jumping atop the mattress and trying to give him a good shove. He was drunk, dead weight and would not even justify your attempts with a shift. “C'mon, Rafi, I don’t wanna sleep on the couch and this is _my_ bed.”

“Staaaaahp,” he tugged on your wrists, causing you to fall- he seemed to be doing that an awful lot to you lately.  "Deja de lloriquear e irse a dormir.“

"What the fuck did you just say to me?” For emphasis, you elbowed his gut, and he let out a sharp ‘oomf’ before defiantly curling arms around your waist to keep you from being able to hit at him anymore. Lucky for him, you were tired, and it was just a _little_ bit comforting to have someone to melt against in the middle of the night. 

Sleeping was easier with company, wasn’t it?  
And you could _sleep_ with a friend without it being inappropriate… right?

“Stop whining,” he buried his face in your hair after settling into being the ‘ _big spoon’_ , and happily shut his eyes to let the hum of your fan and the smell of your shampoo lull him, “and go to sleep.”

You thought of arguing more, mostly to ( _try and_ ) prove that you were only accepting the situation as is because there were so few other options. Not because maybe you didn’t mind feeling the rise and fall of his chest against your spine, not because just perhaps you did like the way he held you while you fell back asleep. But his breathing had settled, and his grip around you had loosened just slightly- he splayed his fingers over your stomach to keep you near and you finally decided he could stay, undisturbed. 

Just tonight would be fine, you decided through your comfort and reverie.  
Just tonight.

~

The next morning, you woke up alone, but could feel the breeze from your opened window ruffling your sheets. He must have shimmied up the fire escape, his _little secret_. You smiled to yourself, and wrapped your arms around a nearby pillow. After burying your face into the fluffy comfort, you realized the silliest thing- it smelled like Rafael. And for some sweet reason, you enjoyed it.

* * *

Your lease was up.

After five long years, your apartment was no longer your apartment.  
At least, it wouldn’t be after today.

The boxes had been packed, he had even helped between finishing up finals and his work shifts. Being prepared didn’t seem to help matters, though, and you couldn’t help but notice how increasingly slow he had gotten at stacking the lighter ones together.

“You alright?” You asked finally, unable to ignore the downtrodden look on his face. “You can stop if you wanna, I appreciate all the help-”

“No, no,” Rafael plumped his lips to exhale, and shook his head side to side. “No I don’t mind, not at all. It’s just…”

Your brow perked, and you tightened the bandanna you had tied up to keep your hair out of your eyes. “Just what, Rafael?”

And while you moved- he watched you, drank you in, had no qualms in standing still and staring while you stretched your arms high above your head or when you slumped forward to prop your elbows up on the counter top near the kitchen. He bit the inside of his cheek, and bobbed his shoulders aloofly, just to try and keep from smiling when you theatrically repeated the move.

“I’ll miss ya,” he mumbled finally, and shifted his gaze away from you so he could gather the final armful of boxes. “You’re kinda cool, but it’s not like you don’t know that.”

You pout out your bottom lip; truth be told, you knew you’d miss him too. It was pleasant having someone right next door, especially someone as kind and useful as he was. Whether you needed someone to walk you around the corner at night, or just wanted to sit and talk instead of wasting away in your solitude after a long day- Rafael was always there for you. The two of you had become close, closer than you had ever been with a neighbor before. He was simple, sweet, and easy to keep company. You found yourself being thankful for the day he brought the wrongly-delivered package to your door.

“I’ll miss you too, Rafael,” you admitted coolly ( _or, as coolly as you could manage_ ) as you lifted a load of boxes up in your arms. “We don’t have to disappear, though, we can keep in touch. That’s why they make phones and stuff-”

He didn’t appear relieved. Like a pup, he followed close behind you, balancing his own sets of your parcels much like he had been doing the first day he met you. “Yea but you’re gonna go be a big wig culinary expert,” his voice was low, it nearly broke your heart- you kept your eyes set ahead of you so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “You’ll forget all about me.”

“You’re awful,” you protested while helping him shove the last of your luggage into the back of the truck. “You’re talking like I’m dying, but I’m only moving.” 

Rafael was staring at his feet, and had his hand on the back of his neck in the exact same way he had done the first day he found himself at your doorstep. Hoping to leave on a better note, you pressed the toes of your shoes against his, and rocked up to lean your forehead against his. 

“You’re the best neighbor I could’a ever asked for, Rafael.” It felt like he was looking at your nose, or your cheeks- he wouldn’t catch your stare despite the easy availability. “I appreciate you, you’re the best guy I’ve ever met.”

In a surprise, swift motion; he cupped your face up in his hands, and ran his thumbs sweetly along your jaw line. “You’re the best little lady I’ve ever known.” 

The keys in your pocket felt heavy, like a death sentence. You didn’t want to go. Of course you didn’t, but what were your other options? Re-lease out that stupid, awful apartment with crummy air conditioning and a sink that required your not-very-handy neighbor to come knock at the pipes with one of his heavier legal text books- just because you didn’t want to lose contact with _him_?

Rapidly, before he could even think how to react, you rocked up and found his lips with your own. It was seconds, nothing crazy, you were half worried he’d shove you away and you’d be left mortified. With that fear in mind, you bounced off of him with careful palms against his chest, and thankfully he was stuck statuesque as you literally ran away to the front of the box truck. 

The driver didn’t say a word, he’d likely seen plenty of these ordeals before, but obediently revved the engine and pulled away from the curb.

Your cheeks were hot, you _had_  to be blushing, and you lay your face against the window to relish in the cool glass. What were you thinking? Thank God you had done that quick, before he could have refused you- was that wrong?

Your guilt was momentarily assuaged, however, when you noticed him in the mirror; trying unsuccessfully to run after the truck that was hauling you away.

 _Objects in mirror are closer than they appear_.

Oh, how you wished that was true…

* * *

> _**Twelve Years Later~** _

* * *

It was a quiet little cafe, on a Thursday afternoon; and that was precisely why you liked it.

“( _Your Name_ )?”

Curiously, you tore your gaze from your book, and squint your eyes against the sun. That voice- you knew it sounded familiar, but it was impossible to tell who it was by only the silhouette. “Huh?”

Eagerly, and happily taking your question as permission, he stole the seat across from you. It took a split second, but those eyes- you couldn’t have forgotten them no matter how hard you tried to over the years. 

And oh, how you tried.

“Raf-” stammering, you had to make it through your shock: he really was right here, in front of you- you dropped your book mindlessly. Unblushingly, he snatched up your hands off the metal table top, and pressed your knuckles to his lips while you struggled to find your voice. God, he grew up handsome. “Rafael, I can’t believe it- what are you doing on this side of town?”

He laughed, and smiled- that boy you had thought about so often from that shitty little apartment complex in your past shone right through the mature man who sat before you. “I had a meeting, and to be honest- I’m usually absolutely oblivious,” since he had taken the bravado to show the subtle affection, you tugged the hopelessly tangled bundle of fists back your way and leaned your cheek against the back of his hands. “But I saw you and I literally had to come _back_  around the corner to be sure, I couldn’t believe it was actually you.”

He had passed you, then back tracked? You were silently reading before he had interrupted your peaceful day- how had you managed to catch his attention so efficiently? It didn’t matter, all you could consider was how thankful you were that he _did_ indeed recognize you.

“I’ve seen you on TV, Mister Hot Shot ADA-” his eyes rolled, and you giggled at the feigned annoyance; nobody who was able to grab a crowd like he did would honestly be uncomfortable with his pseudo-fame being mentioned. “Really, though, you’ve been doing so much lately- I’m impressed. Nothing could ever keep you down though….” your brows wriggled, and he leaned forward to try and decipher what you could be leading towards, “except Tequila.”

He went doe-eyed, and that silly smirk you missed so much slid across his lips. “Yea, well, I learned my lesson there; I’ve never touched that junk since. Like you said- it’s only irresponsible if you go back.”

“So no more impromptu sleepovers with your neighbors?” It was an easy jab, so you took it, but he appeared unaffected. Honestly, you weren’t surprised- if he could handle the awful stories and cases you saw flash across the news, he could probably manage through an embarrassing memory unscathed.

But, he did wag his head side to side, “You’re the only neighbor who’s ever been fun enough for slumber parties.” Hesitantly, he pulled the tangled hands back towards him, so he could take a look at his watch without letting go. “Damn,” his smile fell, and you couldn’t help yourself from mirroring his frown.

“You gotta go? Already?” Unashamed, you pouted, and he groaned dramatically just as he had done long ago: it was as if there had been no time lost since the last time you two had seen each other. 

Reconnecting was easy, seamless, dare you say- _enchanting_.

He nodded, and again placed his lips against your fingers while staring into your eyes. “I do,” he spoke against your skin, but leaned over the table so he was nearer than before. “I have a business card in my suit pocket, behind the square, grab it. Will you call me?”

That was an odd way to propose giving out a phone number. “You gotta let go of my hands to do that, though… you get it.” 

“ _You_  gotta let go to get it.” He was still so damn stubborn, he really hadn’t changed much at all despite all those years.

Finally, you obliged, and squirmed one of your hands free so you could reach over and pull a little sturdy card from behind the pocket accessory. “ _ADA Rafael Barba_.” Your head rocked side to side as you read the text out loud, and his joyful expression never faltered. “Should I call your office number or send you a fax?”

Rafael snatched it back from you, and took a pen from his pocket to jot down an additional ten numbers. “This one, it’s my cell-” you nosily leaned forward just as he had done, and read as he wrote it down as promised. “I’ll always answer, swear, or I’ll call right back.”

“You sure you’ll have time for me?” You ran your fingertips along the edges of the business card as he stood back up, thoughtfully considering if you’d actually be brave enough to reach out to him like he was requesting. Was he just being nice? Or did he really want to hear from you? 

Just as he had done twelve years ago, though he had to bend down in order to reach you as you sat, he cupped your face in his hands and ran his thumbs over your jaw. It was deja-vu, a sort of Nirvana, and you shamelessly nuzzled your cheek against his palm. A sweet, innocent kiss was left on your forehead before he rose back to standing. The illustrious ADA straightened his suit jacket, and kept eyes locked on your blush as he nodded: 

“I will _always_  have time for you, ( _Your Name_ ).   
And this go around, I’m _not_  going to lose you again.”


	2. Re Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Part TWO to “Good Neighbors”, a previous request re: living next to Rafael in your 20s & reconnecting. This one’s the re-connection, :).

It took you at least a few days to finally get the gusto to call his cell;

> “Rafael?”
> 
> **“( _YourName_ )!”**
> 
> “How did you know it was me?”
> 
> **“How couldn’t I?”**
> 
> “Well, I was wondering if you did want to get together sometime, I’ve missed you so.”
> 
> **“Tomorrow night?”  
> **
> 
> “Uh… so soon?”
> 
> **“It’s been too long already.”  
> **
> 
> “Right… Right, yes, tomorrow should work.”
> 
> **“I’ll text you the place, eight sound good?”  
> **
> 
> “Sure, Rafi.”

* * *

You were just on time, apparently minutes after he arrived- and he rose to standing the second he saw you come in through the doors he had been absolutely transfixed on.

When he hugged you, you felt like you were twenty-something all over again; fresh, young, full of life and anticipation. And oh, he **hugged** you; the moment you were in reach, Rafael nearly tripped over the table in his rush to embrace you. It was kind, gentle, and he wrapped arms over your shoulders to keep you close for just a second too long- not that you minded.

“I’m so glad you called,” he held you out before him, and let out a shameful, hushed wolf whistle of approval. “Look at you; Lovely and all grown up.”

“Oh stop,” you brushed his hands off of you, before wagging your shoulders proudly. “The years have been pretty good to you too,” A pinch to his cheek, you couldn’t tell if the pink hue that came up was from your fingers or his blush, _Lord_ he was handsome. “Bet you have to knock the ladies off of you with a baseball bat at this point.”

Politely, he waited for you to sit, then leaned forward to whisper a soft secret in your ear; "the only ladies in my life hate me most of the time.” You rolled your eyes, how could anyone _hate_ Rafael? Instead of sitting in the chair across from you, where he had been when you arrived, he took the one right beside yours. “I’ve been working with a sex crimes unit, and those cases aren’t exactly cut and dry all the time. I’m not the most liked man in the world.”

“I see,” your brows furrowed at the suggestion. You certainly liked him. But; sex crimes? What kind of horrors has your sweet old friend seen- the same man that was once upon a time just a boy who couldn’t even stomach the thought of you walking to the corner drug store alone at night. Your diligent guardian angel, Rafael Barba, refusing to shut his door until he knew yours would be locked- how could he stomach such a scene?

Easy. His heart of gold. His relentless pursuits for justice.  
He was still that kindly boy with his nose in case files and thoughts with those who needed him.

“You?” He was happy to interrupt the silence, would much rather discuss anything having to do with you instead of his work days. “Have a man waiting at home for you? I’m sorry for having to meet so late-”

Yeah right, you scoffed and dismissed the thought with a palm held up to his face. “No, no. Men are too much trouble.” Have been ever since you let anyone in after that apartment. Back then, you hadn’t bothered much with boys or anything, but your luck hadn’t improved at all after losing your best friend. “Nobody’s waiting anywhere for me.”

Rafael bit the inside of his cheek, deciding his commentary may be unnecessary in this situation ( _he’d been waiting for you for years, after all_ ), and went to studying the list of wine. “How’s your bakery dreams coming along?”

Truth be told- it hadn’t come along at all. “Well, I write reviews now,” bills needed paid and your baking hobby wouldn’t supplement itself. There were already an abundance of little shops for goodies around New York- you’d become an expert in them. So much so, a magazine had hired you to concoct columns about them. “Sometimes they’re for bakeries.”

“Step by step.” A reassuring smile from his end managed to muffle all your thoughts of self-doubt. If someone who actually achieved their dreams could still have faith in you… well, the face Rafael still had faith in you alone was more than enough. “You still make those cookies, right?” He winked as you giggled, “I’ve never had better ones, and trust me- I’ve tried to find some.”

“When I can find enough sugar.” Of course you did; you had _perfected_ that recipe while he was your taste tester. “Not everyone’s as neighborly and willing to share as you always were.”

He linked your pinkies, and curled his so your hand slid closer to his atop the tablecloth. “If it’s the same old deal, I’ll buy you all the sugar in Brazil,” when he leaned in closer, you could smell his rich cologne- starkly different from the cheap stuff he used to wear, but no amount of scented spray could overcome the familiar scent he had left behind on your pillows forever ago before shimmying away to his secret escape.

“I’ve missed you, Rafi,” instead of only letting him keep your smallest finger, you lay your palm over his fingers, and gave a gentle squeeze to prove sincerity. “Seriously.”

“Oh, ( _YourName_ ).” He brought your hand up to his lips, spoke cheerily against your soft knuckles; “You have _no_ idea.”

* * *

Two bottles of wine later, and somehow the legs of the chairs you two sat on had surreptitiously scooted closer. How did it come to this, you wondered while watching him pour you a fresh glass; his hand on your knee, shins and shoes touching, eyes on yours the moment he was finished with refreshments. It was like deja vu, a sort of familiar comfort, as if you two were in those crummy apartments instead of a corner of a fancy restaurant you wouldn’t ever go to alone.

The discussion went back, as it always seemed to, to those years you two had spent together so closely. Platonic and perfect, or so it had seemed at the time- peaceful, precious, prized. The sands of time hadn’t changed much, so it seemed, though distance had an odd way of making the heart grow fonder.

Was that why, when you saw him smile through the short silence, you were quite happy to find this _~~handsome~~_ matured version of your sweet old friend Rafi? Dare you even consider it- but maybe you even _liked_ it?

"Do you remember that ridiculous neighbor across the hall from me?” He leaned in, brought up the memory in a whisper- you could feel his hand shift, he rest his arm over your lap while waiting expectantly for your response.

Immediately, you burst out laughing- you certainly did. “The old lady?” To keep the attention off your blush, you reached over him to retrieve your wine. “She had quite a thing for you, you know.”

Rafael smirked, and nodded vibrantly. “I still have nightmares about her.” Those green eyes closed, and he bowed down to rest his forehead against your shoulder. “That old lady perfume, those red painted plastic nails tapping on my door-”

“You were a big boy, Rafi,” you bit your lip to try and keep from giggling, then laid your hand over the back of his head. After a couple reassuring pats, you proceeded in your encouragement; “You could handle a little harassment in the hallways.”

“Are you kidding me?” Once he looked back up at you, it was too difficult to contain your laughter. Flashbacks to that poor little lady going through menopause, begging Rafael to help in any and every menial fashion she could come up with. Groceries needing carried up the stairs, a jammed door needing bust through, clogged drains he needed to investigate- and each time, she’d kiss at his cheek and tell him how precious he was. It was one of your favorite times to find chores to do, when you heard her chattering away at him, you couldn’t miss the terrified glaze-over of his eyes while he tried to be _so_ polite. “You left me for the dogs-”

“You never asked for help,” you wagged a finger thoughtfully in his face. “All you’d do is shoot me a deer-in-the-headlights look when she’d tell you that you looked like her third husband, then explain that she’s only been married twice.”

He groaned, and took a hefty drink of wine. "I’d have never let someone talk to you like that-”

“Bullshit,” Again, an accusatory point his way, “you left me at that bar when that Malibu Ken doll wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Suddenly, his face changed. From the jocular grin and sparkle to a slightly downtrodden smirk. “Oh like you didn’t want to chat with Mr. Hasselhoff-”

“I didn’t! You were my bestie, I wanted to chat with you, not him.” Though you didn’t take offense, the switch was a tad curious. You and Rafael had gone out together, after he swore he flunked some exam ( _he didn’t_ ) and needed to ‘relax’. About an hour in, this blonde haired Fabio bought you a drink, and wouldn’t leave you alone. “He was ridiculous, so pompous and arrogant, he actually told me how much he could lift- did you know that?”

“No,” there was nothing light about his tone, in fact- he even squirmed just slightly enough to put space between you. “I left the bar and went home.”

At that, you frowned. Perhaps your memory wasn’t the best, but you could specifically recall the moment you realized he had left you at that dingy little bar. “You said the next day you had somewhere else to go…”

“I did, home.” He went to turn away, reached for the now-empty bottle and feigned utter disappointment when he tried to pour out the nonexistent remainder. “I didn’t want to be there any more.”

“Why not?” Unwilling to let him get any further away, you hooked your ankle inside of his, gave a tug with your just hard enough to convince him to look downwards.

Apparently the next line was intended for your shoes instead of you; “Bestie Rafi couldn’t compete with Malibu Ken.”

Compete? Why would he even try? That boy at the bar was a joke; actually flexed his muscles when he reached for his drink and smelled like cheap tanning lotion. He didn’t hold a candle to Rafael, but then again, nobody could.

You had been tracing the rim of your wine glass while contemplating; he was happy to gift you the moment of silence, but a quick glance at his watch convinced him to cut your trail of thoughts short.

“It’s getting late,” Rafael took up the bill, and jokingly knocked your hand away when you went to reach for it. “Let’s split a cab, I believe we live pretty close…”

* * *

You two shared the backseat of a Taxi much how the chaise in your old apartment had been shared; closely, loosely, tumbled and tangled together with no real sense of propriety or personal space. Your legs were dangling lazily over his, he held you up with a smartly curled arm over your shoulders, and you hid your face inside his jacket until he stopped the cold air by rolling his window up.

Back then, if this were your chaise instead of leather seats and still so chilly out, you both would be busy reading your own books; legs woven through the other’s and reposed on opposite ends, or you’d be lounged over his back and under the blankets, with your chin propped atop his shoulder to get a peek at the novel he had. Then in the summer; you’d lay on your belly and lean your temple against the window frame, he’d be shamelessly draped atop of you with his head alongside yours, almost always cheek-to-cheek, you’d flutter your eyelids at his hand petting your breeze-blown tresses. It was all to try and savor the cool outside air, escape the heat of your apartment building, innocent- but neither of you minded the warmth from the other.

Now, he swat at your knee with leather gloves he hadn’t yet put on, and drug your thoughts back from the reverie of yesteryear.

“Why did you go?”

The question took you by surprise, you thought it had been rather self-explanatory; “The lease was up, Rafi-”

“Yea, but,” Obviously not satisfied, he surreptitiously scoot closer. “You ditched me,” he was pathetic when he was upset, still, but tried to hide his puppy-dog-eyes by keeping his chin against your temple. “You were my best friend.”

Knowing he wouldn’t let you look at him, and not exactly having a desire to considering the subject matter, you occupied yourself by reaching forward to fiddle with his cuff links, “I know, you were mine, too.” You sighed, his chest fell too, and you traced the pretty engravings with nervous fingertips, “and I’m sorry-”

“But why did you…” his voice faltered. Everywhere he touched you was suddenly tighter- he pulled you against his chest, until you could lay your face against his shirt. “You took me by surprise, I froze,” apparently the context wasn’t necessary, it was obvious what you two were discussing. “I tried to go after you.”

“Did you really think you’d catch the truck?” Maybe a joke could calm the tension, it used to work. “I could never get you to go running with me, and you were out of breath just climbing down the stairs with those boxes-”

"I tried.” No teasing, no chance to redirect the conversation. He wasn’t ready; “I ran, ( _YourName_ ).”

Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth. He deserved honesty, especially after all this time. “I was embarrassed, Rafi,” you pouted, and twist your face just slightly so you could watch as the streetlights passed by in the windows. It was easier to look out than in; too hard to gaze at him, to consider yourself. “I was foolish and I figured you thought I was a freak, I kissed you-” His hand on your knee grew firmer, “and ran.”

Rafael chose the barely trekked route of silence, which took you by surprise. Speechless was not something that came to mind when you thought of him, he always had a comment or a thought to share. When nothing came, you snuggled in, welcoming the familiar warmth you had missed for so long. Instead of arguing or alleviating your concerns, he only leaned his head against yours, you thought he pressed his lips to your hair.

“( _YourName_ ),” he sounded nervous, which immediately garnered your attention. Thoughtfully, you pushed off of him, hands left against his chest as you pulled hesitantly away. Per the typical, Rafael was patient, and waited until what he perceived as the perfect moment- your eyes on his, your brows arched, and a scared smirk slithered over his face. “Tell me,”

You cocked your head to the side, and tightened your hold until the cold zipper tracks left indents in your palms. “Tell you what, Rafi?”

He swallowed, hard, then shifted as the car came to a stop in front of too-nice condos. You assumed the car had arrived to his place, made sense, you lived at least another twenty minutes away with traffic. “If this isn’t okay…”

Isn’t okay? Your sweet friend, what could he possibly do that wouldn’t be anything less than wonderful? “What-”

Before you could demand an explanation, Rafael boldly cupped your face up in his hands, ran thumbs adoringly along your jaw, then cheek bones; the kiss you hadn’t been able to rid from your thoughts for all these years found you once again, it felt just as electrifying and terrifying as it had then. Of course, there had been other men, _hell_ \- a couple other girls too, and millions of words that had touched your lips since the last time you had shared a kiss with your doe-eyed neighbor that silly day before you ran off to hide in the damned box truck like a coward: yet this, right here, was the first time anything having to do with your pout actually felt… **_perfect_**. It was right, it was the fulfillment of a prophecy, necessary and enlightening. The rush was exquisite and ignited deja vu; both the quickening pace of your heart and then the devastating loss of his presence….

Too fast, he was gone. The damned, glorious daydream had caused you to flinch- it didn’t even feel real until you thought you felt your heart break. You desperately tried to reach for him, but only the slamming of the car door hit your fingertips.

This time, you were the one who was left, and your diligent driver pulled away from the curb…

The condos faded away in the side view glass as the distance grew greater;  
 _Objects in mirror are closer than they appear_.

You’d be damned if it weren’t true.

“Sir, sir-” Rapidly, you bolted up in your seat, and went to tapping away at the poor, bewildered driver’s shoulder. “Sir, can you _please_ pull the _fuck_ over?”

* * *

When he opened the door, only his tie was loosened, but his brows bounced to see you standing out of breath on his front porch. You were standing uneven, Rafael gave you a quick look-over before realizing you only had one heel on. “What-” the look in his eyes shifted, from nerves to concern. “What were you running from?”

Before you could appease his curiosity, you rocked yourself forward, and delivered audacious affection by means of another surprise kiss. This time, though, Rafael wouldn’t let the opportunity pass- neither of you succumbed to the shock.

Also, this time, neither of you were willing to let go.

“I…” It was hard to breathe, hard to pull far enough away, far too hard to speak properly. So instead, you mumbled through, and eagerly accepted every peck of interruption. “I had to try…” His tongue slid along your bottom lip, you sighed at the subtle taste of red wine, of hesitation; “I ran.”

Rafael coiled an arm around your waist, shoved the door shut, and slid his free hand up your throat until he could tangle his fingers in your hair. “I’m so glad you did,” neither of you could bring yourselves to be the one to cease the kiss; there was time to make up for. Years apart had hushed the desire, but couldn’t stifle the flame- all it took was his bold move in the cab, and it had been ignited to be stronger than ever. Magnetic, inimitable, blinding, _perfect_.

Thankfully, he was as breathless as you were;  
But who needs oxygen when you have each other?

“I don’t have any tequila-” it didn’t quite seem to be the best time for a joke, but you still smiled against his pout, threw your arms over his shoulders so you could trace the short hairs the barber must have missed at the nape of his neck.

Your nose crunched; “As you shouldn’t.”

He huffed, which put just enough space between your faces for you to catch his eyes roll. “But, what about a sleepover?” His hands slid to the back of your head, so he could cradle your skull in his long fingers and move you so you looked directly his way. In hopes of bringing good luck and favor to his suggestion, Rafael plumped his bottom lip through a sly smile. “For old time’s sake? I promise I won’t be _too much_ _trouble_.”

Without verbalizing your acceptance, you kicked off your remaining shoe, and lay your lips on his jaw line while he helped you discard your jacket. “Do I have to shimmy down a fire escape before you wake up?”

“Nah, you’re staying right where I can find you;” Rafael laced his fingers with yours, brought the bundles of fists up to rest over his beating heart. Through the expensive dress shirt, past the richly patterned tie- you could feel it. Just as you had back all those years ago. “I’m **not** going to lose you again.”


	3. FLASHBACK; The Hot Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From ask [HERE](http://ohbelieveyoume.tumblr.com/post/158243664362/i-dont-know-if-your-requestss-are-open-but-could) re: _could you write something about them sharing that chase or whatever it was? that was so so cute and such a small part of the story._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Flashback;** in your twenties, a devastatingly hot summer afternoon, when your best friend / neighbor Rafael Barba decides to bug you._

It was so, so hot out.

“What the Hell are you wearing?” Rafael had been at classes, and easily decided to help himself into your apartment after they were through. “And why don’t you lock your damn doors?”

You rolled your eyes, too annoyed with the sweat beading across your forehead to properly deal with his berating. This horrible weather had everyone acting up, threw the world off its hinges just a bit. “I hadn’t been expecting company, most people knock.”

“I’m not most people,” his backpack was abandoned, and he made no efforts of hiding the fact that he was quite interested in your outfit. Thin silk? Satin? He could never tell, but it was barely much of anything, hung from thin straps on your shoulders ( _one had slipped, and you did not appear too concerned with fixing it_ ) and barely reached your thighs. Petal pink and precious, he bit his lip while shaking his head to rid his mind of the thoughts that flooded- he was only a man, after all. “But if you don’t have to wear real clothes, I’m losing this shirt.”

“I don’t give a shit, Rafi, parade around naked if you want to.”

He paused, you spun to look over your shoulder when you couldn’t hear his feet shuffling anymore. Tauntingly, he had the buckle of his belt in his hands, and wriggled brows ( _what you assumed he considered_ ) seductively as he fumbled with it.

Deadpan; “That was a joke, Rafi.”

Ah, and your friend roared with laughter, but still ditched the belt. The pants could stay, might as well. “You’re grumpy,” after dropping his shirt with the bag, Rafael sauntered your way, and dramatically collapsed alongside you on the chaise. “You have the best breeze in this whole apartment building, you’d think you’d be a bit grateful.”

A whine left your lips, and you continued to gaze longingly out the window. Children were playing in the streets, dancing in water coming from a hose one of them had used to siphon ’ _rain_ ’ from a hydrant. They probably shouldn’t be doing that, but Lord, they were having so much fun. “I am grateful,” you lay your temple against the wooden edge of the window, propped yourself up with elbows placed on the sill. “I wish I was down there with them, though, they’re having much more fun.”

Curious about the commotion, Rafael placed fists against the cushions on either side of your torso so he could peek around you. They were enjoying themselves, he had noticed them working on the hydrant on his walk back from school. “Well don’t you worry,” shamelessly, he dropped himself, so his chest hit your back and he could curl one arm around your waist. Using you as a resting spot, he pressed his cheek against yours that wasn’t on the windowsill, and used his free hand to comb your sweat-moistened hair out of your face. “Your Rafi’s back, so the fun’s just begun.”

If they had been opened, you’d have rolled your eyes. Instead, you were busy savoring his fingertips and their subtle stroll through your tresses. Why did that feel so nice? You weren’t quite sure, but he didn’t stop, especially not after he twist his face and saw how peaceful you looked. No, instead of getting a drink or watching the rambunctious children stomp in puddles; he watched you, smiled to himself when he felt the tension release out of your shoulders from under him, hid his face in the crook of your neck for just a second despite your damp skin.

This went on for awhile; between the breeze, his petting, and the comfort of his weight over you- you’d almost dozed off. It wasn’t until a tune started playing out in the streets, the tinny music-man jingle of songs you remembered in your own childhood, that you were roused with a start. Your sudden movements apparently surprised poor Rafael, who jumped and gathered a handful of your hair to swipe over your shoulder.

“Want some? I have some extra cash.” The query came after he pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, and you nodded eagerly while staring out at the ice cream truck below. “You gotta put clothes on.”

“I’m wearing clothes, you dolt,” with a smart roll, you managed to knock him off of you, and jumped up to your feet. Still, despite your protest, you went to work tying your hair up in a bun atop your head. “But I will go put a dress on… don’t wanna scare the kiddies.”

_Yea_ , Rafael thought while trying to fight through the blush rising to his cheeks when your lifted arms caused that little… whatever it was… to raise just enough to reveal some of your derriere, _they’d surely be terrified to see you like this… or, you’d be why they’d start teaching Sex Ed in the public schools._

“Hurry up,” he managed to squeak out after watching you disappear in your bedroom. “I’ll go without you,” the threat was as fake as his disinterest, and so Rafael lay flat on the chaise to await your return. 

He wouldn’t go anywhere without you, unless he had to.

Thankfully- he rarely had to.


	4. FLASHBACK; Rafi Had To Decide

You tightened the sash around your waist, efficiently closing up your lace robe. Who could be bothering you- _a quick look at the clock, it was about nine in the evening by now_ \- this late on a week night? Rocking up to tippy-toes, you suspiciously searched out the peep hole to see who had been knocking.

“For once,” he sniffed through… were those tears? And spoke loudly, then held up two Styrofoam containers. Apparently he had brought food? “You lock your damn door.” Knowingly, Rafael held up his chin, and forced the fakest smile you had likely ever seen from him. 

“I didn’t order any delivery, boy,” you went to undoing the locks while taunting him. “And I’m not s’posed to open my door for strangers, my neighbor would never let me hear the end of it.”

Laughter; fallen and sad, but still there. “I think he’d give you a break if you had some booze to share, please… I can go ask him.” It hurt, even if he didn’t mean for it to. What could have him so sad? You needed to know.

By the time you swung the door open, he nearly fell in. “Well,” you placed hands on his chest, to steady him up to standing, rectify the switch from leaning against the wood to having to make it on his own two feet. “You have food so I’ll make an exception… why are you messin’ around so late?”

Instead of answering, your friend pulled a surprisingly unfamiliar move and stormed past you. Noting the time, he put the leftovers in your fridge, and grabbed for one of the beers you had sitting on the shelves. Once opened, it was a chugging contest with himself, and your brows bounced as he huffed through the chill.

Something was wrong; it was obvious in his droll tone, in how he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Too obvious, you knew him too well- he couldn’t hide anything from you, but especially not whatever was tearing him apart so.

“Rafael,” A firm grip on his arm convinced him to stop traipsing about, brought his stare to your fingers around his wrist. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

All at once, your tough-as-nails friend wilted. Instead of arguing or tugging away, he stepped closer, until your chests were flush together and he could bow so his temple was next to yours. He sighed to relieve his pent up frustration, pressed his nose against your cheek, wrapped arms around your waist to pull you in for a hug. 

What happened was a hard story to relay, it was downright mortifying, to be honest. Yet, in his time of need; of comfort, of reassurance- you were the only one he could ever imagine coming to. Thank God you answered your door.

“This girl, I took her out,” He sniffled and you tightened your hold on his biceps when you thought he started to cry. “She was real sweet-”

Any girl that had him in a state like this couldn’t be all that sweet. In fact, you hated her. Quickly, you racked your brain, until you could recall him very briefly mentioning he was going on a date. “That girl from school?” It all came back to you; he had asked you how his hair looked and you taunted him until he explained why he cared. Oh, but now, you hated her. “I thought you really liked her?” It felt sour on your tongue.

“I did,” Rafael confirmed solemnly with a succinct nod. “I really did, she just… I guess she wasn’t all that into… an _us_.” His steps followed yours, and he continued on while you made diligent efforts to guide this pity party to your sofa. “She was really pretty, and she’s so smart it’s ludicrous-”

You sincerely thought your heart would break. “Oh, Honey.” Your precious friend, dear Rafael, how could any girl make him sniffle like this? She was a monster, you decided, an absolute brute. “Come here, come ‘ere.” Unblushingly, you curled your arms around his shoulders, let him sigh and lay his face over your collarbones after the joint venture brought you both tumbling over the arm of your sofa. “Rafael, don’t let her get to you,” kisses for his hair, his temple, his forehead, “you’re fantastic, you are the smartest person I know, the best man I’ve ever met, seriously;” more pecks for his cheeks when he finally side-eyed up your way. “You deserve the world, all the happiness the cosmos have to offer, all the love anyone could ever give- don’t ever waste time on any bitch who won’t give it to you.”

Rafael nodded, and hugged you closer until you both tangled into the other. There wasn’t enough sadness in the world for you two, not when one of you were down. Instead of indulging you with details, he twisted his fingers into the bottom of your shirt, hooked ankles with yours. You were a security blanket, a safety zone; everything would have to end up okay as long as you were there.

“Hey,” delicately, you brushed his hair out of his face, and wriggled so he’d be convinced to look up at you instead of hiding away in your skin. “You wanna go out? We can find you a lady,” teasingly, you wriggled your hips, and he groaned before placing palms on your sides to try and make you stop, “there’s tons of girls in New York, let’s find you a real pretty one.”

“Nah,” The last thing Rafael wanted to deal with were any more damned girls, especially after tonight, when he had already realized who the best one was. “Nah, I’d rather just keep it quiet.” Still leaving you with limited access to choice of movement, it was hard to squirm when he was wrapped around you so ardently, he looked to the television you had been watching prior to his arrival. “What’re you watching?”

“Oh, Must Love Dogs.” You nodded happily, turned in his arms so you could get a good look at the screen. “It’s really good, it just started, but it’s a chick flick.”

“I’m fine with that,” apparently that meant he’d be staying. He let you go, so you could shift up to sitting beside him instead of being pressed into the couch. “I feel like a chick anyways.” A lame, lousy chick. He’d be alone the rest of his life, after all, he might as well get used to bad movies. What else would he do when you and him ended up in the bachelor/bachelorette pad of the nursing home together?

“Awe Rafi,” you leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek, to rustle his dark hair with a quick slip of your fingertips. “You’re the best chick on this block, better than any of my other friends.” While growling as a tease, you buried your eyes into his throat, and sashayed your shoulders. “I happen to think you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in this sorry world.”

Thank God, he considered silently as you pulled away, while you tossed your legs over his and reclined on your end of the couch. Carefully, he settled within the abundance of blankets and cushions you commonly kept available, rest his hands atop your knees and drew small circles with his thumb on your skin. 

The movie droned on, but the night only grew more tiring, and eventually Rafael turned to check on you and noticed that you had fallen asleep somewhere between the climax and conclusion of the film. 

He should leave, he thought to himself, lock the doors behind him and thank you in the morning.

Instead, Rafael fell to the side, until he could lay behind you and press his cheek against the back of your head. The sweet scent of your shampoo, the one he had discovered awhile ago after the night he learned not to drink tequila, brought a smile to his face- the first real smile he’d mustered since the ordeal he had come running from.

This was perfect; he considered while laying his arm over your waist.  
He did the right thing.

* * *

> _**Just 3 Hours Before;** at a too-nice restaurant with that girl from class._

* * *

His date sighed; “But you’re with her _all the time_.”

He shoved a meatball across his plate with his fork. “She’s my best friend.”

“Rafael, I’m not going to compete.” Her voice had lowered to a whisper, respectfully, likely due to the sensitive subject matter. No need to bother the rest of the restaurant’s patrons with their squabble. “I can’t let things between us get serious if you can’t give me all of you-”

“I’m giving you everything I can.” Rafael glared across at her, but tried so hard to stay soft. Let her talk, give her her opinion- even if it was so painful to hear. “We’ve gone out, we talk all the time, I don’t understand-”

“You take her out.” Her butter knife was pointed his way. “You are always calling or talking about her.”

This was getting ridiculous, they were supposed to be out on a date, how did this turn into trouble for him? “You don’t have any reason to be jealous of her,” that was the problem, right? “I’m not even her type.”

That must have been what she was waiting for. Slowly, the pretty brunette he had been chasing for the last few months folded her napkin and politely left it atop the table. “Rafael, I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

His shoulders drooped, and he went to staring at their barely touched plates. “Let’s talk about this, please,” he reached a hand out to lay atop of hers, a subtle act of contrition. “I really like you, a lot, I can try harder.”

Her eyes easily caught his stare: “Is _she_ still going to be around?”

The air in the room dissipated. This is where this had to go? In order to have the lovely brown-eyed girl that sat a couple rows away in his Criminal Justice course, he’d have to stop being friends with _you_? How was he supposed to do that, to reason it with himself; the idea made his heart ache more than his companion’s fallen simper. For the last couple years, you and Rafael had become practically inseparable… was it worth it, would this stunning girl with an A in their class be worth dropping a friendship? Losing you, his best friend, his cocky confidant, his _Rafi-can-you-help-me_ , _Rafi-will-you-go-with-me_ , _Rafi-does-this-look-okay_ needy neighbor?

That was too easy. This whole situation was too easy, he decided.

Rafael took back his hand, and thoughtfully wiped at his lips with his own napkin. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” he confirmed sullenly, with a nod to prove exactly how committed he was to the thought. “Obviously, this isn’t going to work out…”

It wasn’t worth it. It never would be.

She wasted no time excusing herself after the final conclusion was apparently made. As she left, he ordered ‘ _to go_ ’ containers, and took a long look at his watch. It wasn’t too horribly late, their dinner had barely even began when she decided to drop the bomb.

Hopefully, you’d still be awake, and accepting of some company…


	5. FLASHBACK: The Cold Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback; in your twenties, an icy & wintry afternoon, when your best friend and neighbor Rafael Barba decided your apartment was warmer than his, so he stayed there to read while you went to check the mail…

He had been in your apartment all day, which was why you were not at all surprised to find him with his nose in a book and bundled under your blankets when you came back inside. It was so _so_ very cold, and you were freezing from the long walk down to the mailboxes; there wasn’t heat for the hallways ( _or anywhere, you’d argue)_ in that apartment building and you had not dressed for the weather.

“You’re gonna catch cold,” apparently your friend was not only a budding lawyer- but also a doctor. “Get a blanket, you’re all pink and shivering, I _told_ you to take my coat.”

He had, indeed, advised you to wear his jacket while you went to get the mail- but you didn’t want him to feel like he had a right to tell you what to do. That stubborn attitude he both praised and berated you for daily; and now, as it did often, it screwed you. Quickly, you kicked off your slippers and dove for the chaise he was on, “I plan on doing just that-”

Before he could stop the assault, you managed to burrow your way beneath the down comforter, twist and shift so you could join him. Rafael tried to squirm away, managing to raise the pant leg of his sweats so your shin grazed his- he howled and tried to give you a sharp shove off his spot. “You’re freezing, ( _YourName_ ), you’re gonna make **me**  catch a cold!”

Instead of obliging him, you clung tight from behind. “You’re warm,” you whispered it, and shamelessly hugged yourself tensely against his back. Expecting him to try and wrestle you off, you curled your arms under his shirt and slithered them so you could plant palms firm against his chest and collarbones, even managing to tangle your fingers together atop the ignited goosebumps to make it harder for him to escape your embrace. His heart- you could feel it thump, thump, thump against your hands; his heat, you rest your chin between his neck and shoulder, methodically nuzzling your cheek against his to both thank him for accepting your proximity and to thaw out your chilled face against his- why was he so incredibly warm? 

Though you could perceive his warmth and his steady heart; there was no way for you to see that your cheek was growing hot from the heat of his blush, you couldn’t have noticed how he wasn’t even reading anymore- he was far too busy working to prop himself up on his elbows so you’d have a sturdy foundation while luxuriously lounging on top of him. Rafael was too distracted; by your fingertips absently tracing the lines of his clavicle, by your hair cascading down his shoulder, your chin jabbing into his skin. In fact, he wasn’t even all that bothered by your frozen interruption anymore.

Which was why, when one of your hands fell from his chest and moved ahead of him to tap at his novel, he watched so very precisely to see where your nail landed. “What’s that mean?” The question was innocent enough, but the curl in his stomach that came from your voice and hot breath falling right by his ear certainly was not.

Like a prepubescent boy struggling to manage a changing voice, he squeaked out the pronunciation; “Cacoethes-” Rafael coughed, causing both of you to bounce and your arm keeping you on his back to tighten its hold. “Cacoethes,” he repeated, this time in the tone you were much more familiar with. He sighed, trying to find the best way to explain it; “It uh,” his voice faltered when you turned his way, your nose pressing against him, “it’s like, an urge or a desire, wanting to do something you know you shouldn’t.”

Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed as you considered the new phrase; he could feel it in how your face moved against his cheek. “Cacoethes,” you repeated the word and Rafael’s eyelids fluttered when you retracted your hand from his book and instead ran happy fingers through his hair. The strange word sounded much better when you said it, but he didn’t so much as nod to confirm your pronunciation.

Cacoethes; example, Rafael had to battle the _cacoethes_ to roll you off of him so he could watch your lips form the now-Holy syllables, the _cacoethes_  to reward your lesson with that kiss he never had the bravado to give you…

“Cacoethes,” he mimicked for confirmation. Your arm grazed his chin when you reached out again, tapped at the bottom corner of the page he had been on. Knowingly, Rafael turned it to the next one, and sighed while he felt you get settled over him; you lay your face against his own and continued to comb through his dark strands with your fingers while you went on reading. 

He wasn’t all that interested in the story any more, though; so instead of bothering with the text, he’d very precisely find the best way to move his neck or hold up his head- just so, when you went to tap and silently tell him to turn the page, you’d still brush so surreptitiously against his jaw line.

**Cacoethes** ; the new definition of poor Rafael Barba’s life with you as his dearest friend; **_cacoethes_**.


	6. FLASHBACK: Your Date Night

This was awful. Why did he agree to this? You hadn’t even asked all too nicely.

“I think the red is too much,” you trotted out of your bedroom and gave the referenced clothing a tug. Damn, that dress was short. Instead of advising you of such verbally, Rafael’s eyes got so wide you thought his brows would shoot off his head. “Okay, I get it, it’s awful.”

“It’s not awful, it’s just…” The thought of you parading around the New York streets in that mini skirt made his stomach churn. It wasn’t exactly a good idea, or particularly safe considering the neighborhood you two lived in. “Aren’t you gonna be cold?”

After huffing a bit, you disappeared, and spent mere minutes switching dress choices. “What about this one?”

A little pink ensemble, he had seen you wear it before. It flattered you to no end, fit like a glove, showed off every bit of curve. “I… I dunno,” he groaned, and went to fidgeting with his nails. This was horrible. “I don’t know anything about girl clothes, why would you ask  _me_  to help you with this?”

“Who else would I ask?” Shamelessly, you started taking the dress off before making it back to you room- Rafael shielded his eyes behind a palm until he heard your door shut. “Plus I don’t think you’d let me go out looking silly.”

Rather silly than sexy… “Who is this guy anyway?”

“He’s from the gym, a trainer.” Of  _course_  he is.

The gym? Rafael rolled his eyes so hard they could have stuck up behind his lids. Leave it to you to find some guy at a gym, probably that same gym you had just started at last week. Of course, you had tried to get Rafael to join you, but he had too much school work to justify money for a membership.

What did this guy have that he didn’t; Rafael took a quick look at his arms- true, he didn’t have much to flex, but he  _did_  help you carry all your groceries up the flights of stairs, and he  _did_  pull that stupid mattress you had ordered up all those steps, and he  _did_  manage to assist you in standing when you couldn’t find your footing on the way home from the bar-

His considerations were abandoned the moment you sauntered out of the bedroom.

You threw your arms into the air, did a spin; he hadn’t seen this dress before, it was one you kept safely tucked away for ‘special occasions’. Surely, a date with the trainer at the gym called for it to be pulled out. “What'chya think?”

What did he think? Honestly; he thought you looked stunning. Dark emerald silk, cinched around your waist with a black belt and a golden buckle, sleeves that fluttered to your knuckles and a skirt that skimmed your shins. It shone, reflected light with every little twist and dramatic curtsy you gave. The buttons up the bodice were ebony, and clipped modestly save for the one just at your throat.

What he thought wasn’t important, not to him at least, he was far too busy pondering what that green silk would feel like under his palms, how it would pool together heavy and heavenly on the hardwood floor of his bedroom if those little clasps were undone and…

“Rafi,” he was jerked back to reality at the sound of his pet name, and he had to physically shift to prove he was indeed paying attention. “Is this bad, too?”

None of them were bad, really, but; “No, it’s fantastic, actually.” That was the best way to put it, the tamest way.

“Really!?” Your jaw fell, and still the corners of your lips turned upwards. It appeared as if he had promised you candy instead of simply approving your outfit, he couldn’t help himself from smiling too. “You actually like it, you think he will?”

If he didn’t, the steroids must have gone to his brain, or he was an idiot exactly as Rafael was predicting. “He will, he’ll absolutely love it,” who wouldn’t? Oh, and upon his approval, you beamed at him- went running across the room to tackle him against the chaise and embrace him.

“I’m so nervous, Rafi,” your confession came after you buried your face against his clavicle, “he’s awesome and I’m just so silly sometimes.”

Thankfully, given your positioning, you couldn’t see how he rolled his eyes to the ceiling ( _again_ ) and lolled out his tongue. You were perfect, there wasn’t a man alive who was more ‘ _awesome’_ than you were. “You’ll have a great time, don’t worry,” he went to combing through your hair with his fingertips, a tried-and-true trick he knew would calm you down all too well. “And if anything does go wrong, you know I’m always here for you…”

* * *

Later that night, Rafael did hear from you.  
You were six blocks away. You were in the booth next to a lamp light with yellow and green graffiti art. You were crying.

He had never ran so fast in his life.

"Hey, don’t worry about it,” his jacket was tossed over your head, somewhere between your desperate call and his rush to get to you- rain had started to fall. Both of his arms were curled over your shoulders, and he kept his voice louder than the thunder as the two of you made your way back to that old apartment building. “What happened, though?”

You sniffled, held onto your fistfuls of his shirt tighter as the weight of his wet coat slowed your stroll. “He tried to kiss me, and I dunno, I wasn’t feelin’ it-” taking a moment to recover and choke back your sobbing, you hid your eyes against his shoulder. “So he kicked me outta’ the car and it’s late so I didn’t wanna walk alone.”

What an asshole. Screw that guy from the gym, Rafael decided while tugging you closer against him. He’s a loser, a stupid meat head, hopefully he’d get stuck under a barbell or stub his toe on a treadmill- it didn’t matter what happened to him, as long as something horrible did indeed punish him for this.

“I got ya,” it was a promise as much as it was a reassurance, and oh you believed him. “We’re gonna get home and watch all the bad movies you wanna watch.”

“I don’t watch bad movies.”

Rafael snickered, then dropped an arm so he could coil it around your waist. “Yes you do.” The silk felt nicer than he could have ever imagined, but nowhere near as grand as the sensation of your hand dropping to tangle your fingers with his. “It’s okay, though.”

All the rain in the clouds couldn’t bring a chill to his bones after you rocked up to place a kiss on his chin. “Thank you, Rafi.”

You were certainly welcome.


	7. FLASHBACK: Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: A Saturday afternoon, which was rather peaceful until Rafael paid an unexpected visit…

“You’re not serious.” 

You were praying, between every syllable, that this was a  _bad_  joke.

After dropping his backpack by your shoes, he cocked his head to the side. “What?” Surprisingly, Rafael actually looked offended you would even question the sincerity of the flier he had handed off after waltzing so proudly into your apartment. “You don’t think I could do it?”

> **‘Traveling Strippers Wanted:’**  the yellow poster proclaimed in bolded text over clip-art pictures of dollar bills and bow ties-  **'Make Money While Shaking Your Groove-Thing!’**

Dear God, you hoped he couldn’t do it. When did it get so cold, why were you suddenly so…  _angry_? “I think you’d chicken out,” dismissing the idea, you wadded the piece of paper up and threw it directly at his chest. “It’s stupid, anyways, let’s go do something fun-”

Apparently Rafael wasn’t so ready to move on: “Chicken out?” eagerly, he tapped at the miscellaneous dollar amounts quoted across the page, “Not for that kind of dough.”

Still unconvinced, you let out a huff, causing your bangs to flutter. “Do you really want a bunch of girls just… oggling at you?”

“Wouldn’t be different from any other day-” He wriggled his brows, you assumed it was intended to be seductive, and your eyes rolled; before you could stand up, he dove, hooked an arm around your waist to keep you trapped with him on your sofa. “I dunno, I guess I was just flattered they even asked…”

“Flattered!?” Something suddenly enraged you- he felt  _flattered_  by some pimpette approaching him? How often had  _you_  told him how handsome he was, how nice of a stupid-smirk he had, how lucky any girl would be to have him? “They saw you cutting coupons,” your hiss was cruel, and he actually leaned away to try and gauge how serious you were, “and they assumed you were desperate.”

Rafael’s glare worried you, made you wonder if he could taste the  _ ~~jealousy~~_ **anger**  that was dripping from your tone; “There is NOTHING wrong with cutting coupons, when I finally have money to spend, I’ll be spending it on nice clothes instead of overpriced groceries-”

That’s all? He really thought this was about him cutting coupons? Your eyes rolled to the ceiling; “I didn’t say there was, I’m just saying, they’re sharks and you were blood in the water.”

The metaphor appeared lost on him. Instead, he wilted, and actually retrieved his arm so you could squirm away if you really wanted to. “So you don’t think I’m…” his voice faltered, and he went on sputtering to try and hide the way he couldn’t find his words: “You don’t think they’d like me?”

Your nose crunched. “Rafi, that’s not what I’m saying-”

Suddenly, the air changed, and your precious friend was no longer so jocular…

“I’m not a bad looking guy you know.” What was that tone he just took with you, was that  _hurt_? Your jaw fell, but he was already rambling on before you could defend yourself, “There are people that would find me damned attractive, seriously, even if you-” He grunted when your brows knit together, went to try and recover from the overwhelming insecurities that had found him; “[Maybe I’m no trainer from the gym that’ll kick girls out of a car after midnight](http://ohbelieveyoume.tumblr.com/post/158449052662/rafael-barba-good-neighbors-your-date-night), but I’m not ugly.”

Your face dropped, “Rafael,” was it really necessary to bring up your bad date? Why did he suddenly find a need to be so admired by anyone? “Rafael, be nice…”

Still, he glared at you from his end of the couch, somehow the line in the sand had become a throw pillow he’d childishly placed in the space between the two of you. “I could do it.”

“Rafi,” delicately, you scoot closer to his protective pillow, “of course you could-”

The shift was counteracted by him leaning an elbow atop the boundary- “I’d be good at it.”

Trying to slip back to his good side, you nodded in agreement, and ran a fingertip along the fringe that ran along the edge of his pillow: “You’d be good at anything you tried to do.”

“Then why won’t you support me?” Finally, he dared to catch your eyes, and subtly softened the angry tinge in his voice: “For this? I need cash.”

“Rafi, what would you say,” Leaning in, you lay your cheek against his arm, breaking past the invisible wall and nearly touching your nose to his, “if I came to you and told YOU I wanted to do… that?”

Instantly, just at the consideration, his lip curled to a snarl, and his brows knit together. YOU, go off stripping?  _Hell No_ \- that’s exactly what he’d say.  _Hell no_  would he sit by and let you go take off clothes for strangers, no way would he bite his tongue while you writhed to awful disco music in some horrible frat-dude’s living room, absolutely no chance would he stand idly to the side knowing some idiots who would  _actually_ order a stripper would be watching and thinking lewd thoughts while  **you** -

Oh… his shoulders drooped, and he dropped the arm you had been resting against, causing you to fall forward and towards him.

So, thaaat’s what you were going for.

After the beginning of your descent, he threw that throw pillow across the room, allowing you to complete your tumble until you landed against his chest. Rafael’s brows knit together in intense thought, how did you manage to turn the tables on him so quick? “But,” hoping to maybe pity you into agreeing, he reached for you, and curled arms over your shoulders so you’d be trapped in his embrace. In barely a whisper, mostly speaking into your hair at this point, he whispered: “this is different.”

You debated pulling away, but his fingers combing through your tresses convinced you to let it be. “How?”

“You’re… you.” He pecked a kiss to the top of your head, moved your hair out of your face when you worked to look up at him. “You’re  _pretty,_  you’re actually se…” Nope, Rafael decided, scratch that: “you’re attractive and you deserve so incredibly much more than people looking at you like  _that_ -”

“And, Rafi,” this time, you wrapped your arms around his waist, confining him in a hug much as he had done to you: “so do you…”

Silence prevailed, as he pouted to himself as he stared longingly at the balled up flier on the floor. He thought it would be fun, easy money, something just ridiculous enough to work… but if you, his dearest and best friend in the world, sincerely thought it was such an awful idea…

Well, then Rafael would have to go back to the drawing board.

Sensing he still wasn’t quite himself again, you used him as leverage until you could crawl back up to sitting. He allowed it, while still moping, and tried his best to ignore your puppy dog eyes that were aimed his way. “You can strip for me anytime, Rafiiii-” you teased, while running the tip of your tongue over the curve of his bare shoulder. Instead of succumbing to your apparent mockery of seduction techniques, Rafael used three fingers placed squarely on your forehead to push you away- all so he could laugh at you.

“I hate you,” he lied, and you knew very well it was only a lie, so you grabbed onto his wrist instead of allowing him to shove you off the sofa. “I’m never telling you any of my get-rich-quick schemes again. You ruin everything.”

“Becoming a lawyer isn’t enough of one for you already?”

This time, the smile you missed so dearly reappeared, and he used your hold on him to tug you back over the cushions. Multiple, shameless kisses were pressed along your hair line- you closed your eyes to relish in the kindly affection as long as he let it go on.

“Now come on, ya Chippendale,” you wriggled and squirmed until he was convinced to let you go, then jumped up to your feet. “If you were clippin’ coupons, it sounds like it’s time to go grocery shopping.”

He let out a melodramatic sigh, while watching you bound about to get ready. “Who said  _you_  get to use my coupons?”

The taunt caused you to pause, in the middle of tying up your shoe, and your bottom lip plumped out to the most dramatic pout you could possibly muster.

Rafael only smirked, and after kicking the crumpled flier across the room, he went for his backpack. After you finished knotting your laces, he dropped a small bag into your lap… an assortment of coupons for sugar, flour, and other cooking accessories he would have absolutely no use for. 

“Hurry up,” he added as an afterthought, while shrugging his own bag over his shoulder. “I’m giving up a good job opportunity for you… ya better appreciate it… and I accept payback in snickerdoodles…”


	8. FLASHBACK: A Drunk Fluke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: Late at night, on a Saturday evening, after multiple hours of you enjoying your time (with booze) at a bar- when your dear friend Rafael finally made it to escort you safely home…

“You  _asked_  me to meet you at this bar,” Rafael motioned grandly to the little pub you’d previously told him to come to. It was a Saturday evening, he had been out at a lecture all day- but he had promised to meet you there afterwards, to make sure you got home alright. “I’m not going anywhere other than the apartment, I’m in sweat pants…”

Why oh why did he have to be so stubborn sometimes? “But Raaafiiiiii,” you whined, and tugged on the scarf he wore, “You proooooomised, just the joint down the street!”

“Okay, let’s get one thing straight,” despite how you pouted, he wagged a fingertip directly in your face. “I promised I would walk you home, I in no way promised I’d escort you on a pub crawl.”

You whimpered childishly, and stomped your foot, “But how was I s’posed to know you’d be comin for me so earrrrly?”

Rafael took a look at his watch, then rolled his eyes to the ceiling: "Oh my God, how much did you drink? It’s almost midnight.”

Thoughtfully, you tapped at your chin with a fingertip… Or, at least, you tried to. In all actuality, you missed, and for some reason- trying to locate your face with that finger was not a successful venture. “A… Uh… A lot.”

“Come on,” Rafael laughed, curled an arm around your waist, and was happy to see you give in to his leading you away from the bar. “You’re lucky I found you,” he teased while guiding you out the door. “You gonna tell me why you got so wasted?”

Naturally, you allowed him to move you along, and let out a dramatic sigh; “Why WOULDN’T I get wasted, I’m already a damned waste-”

“Oh, stop it.” To your surprise, he interrupted the lament with a protest. “You’re wonderful, don’t say things like that.”

“Aweeee, Rafiii,” you went to embrace him, which turned out to be more of a tumble into his side so you could throw arms around his neck. “You are just so sweet, ya’ know that? So sweet, like cake.”

He smirked, and quickly went to righting you back up on proper footing. “What kind'a cake?”

The question was just odd enough to garner your full attention. “I ‘unno,” rocking up to your toes, you stuck out your tongue, and ran the tip from his jaw line to his cheek bone.

“OH MY GOD-” Instinctively, he pressed his hand against your face, steering you away from the taste test you’d just conducted. “Did you LICK me?”

Your nose crunched in sincere consideration; “I s'pose you’re like a coffee crumb cake, why do you taste like coffee?”

Likely, because he had spent most of the day at a coffee shop, working on a paper. “I think I bleed and sweat coffee at this point.”

Oh, ew, you lolled out your tongue and made a very ardent attempt to cross your eyes so you could check the tip- as if you’d be able to actually see the offensive, caffeinated blood or sweat should it be there.

“Stop,” Rafael laughed, poked at your nose, “you’re gonna go cross-eyed, then you won’t be so pretty anymore.”

Immediately, your jaw fell in offense; “You wouldn’t think I’m pretty if I looked like-” again, you pulled both eyes in, to cross them even more dramatically than before. Unfortunately, the vision change made you lose balance, but there was a wall on the other side of you that managed to catch your fall.

“Oh my God, we are less than a block away and this is taking forever,” again, he reached for you, but this time was concreted by both of his arms curling tight around your waist. “C'mon, we have to get you to your place, it’s way too late to be wandering around…”

“Then why ARE you wanderin’ ‘round?” You trotted along, until growing tired of your heels- you used him as leverage while going about taking them off. “If it’s soooooo too late to be wanderin’ around?”

Rafael stole the damned shoes from you, not quite trusting you to keep hold of them, and knowing  _exactly_  how upset you’d be if they got lost. “I’m wandering around because  _you_  told me to make sure you get home… which is what I’m  _trying_  to do…”

Resistance was futile, you decided, before throwing arms over his shoulders in a grateful embrace. “You’re the best damn dude in this world, Rafi.”

He only lay a hand on your waist, to keep you from stumbling any further. “I sure try… now c’mon, let’s get you home…”

* * *

As you should have known, despite the difficulties you rather consistently presented in your drunken state; Rafael did indeed manage to get you home. Not only that, but he also waited, while you fumbled through changing into pajamas and went careening towards your bedroom.

He came in shortly after you collapsed atop your comforters, to leave a glass of water on your dresser. “Do you need anything else?” After a few moments of you struggling with the blankets, he assisted, held the edges up so you could comfortably squirm beneath them. “’Cause it’s late and I’m  _really_  tired, so I’m gonna head out if you don’t…”

“Wait-” desperately, you jut out a hand, and forcefully threaded your fingers through his. “Don’t go, Rafi, I don’t wanna be all alone.”

Rafael sighed, but didn’t steal himself away. Instead, he let you keep a hold of him and used his free hand to check the alarm clock beside your bed. “You won’t even be awake long enough to notice if I leave.”

A pull, feeble and weak, but somehow convincing enough that he leaned towards you. “Then… Then just stay ‘till then… I let  _you_  stay when you were drunk that one night-”

“I had locked myself out, I didn’t have much other choice…”

Instantaneously, you let out a sad sob, and buried your face in the pillow upon realizing you couldn’t fake any crocodile tears.

“Oh, stop,” He plumped a lip and forced you to roll over and face him. “What did I say?”

“Y-Y-Y-” Perhaps he stopped you from being able to weep hopelessly into your pillow, but you still worked up the theatrics by tugging at him until he had to catch himself on the edge of the bed. “You only wanted to stay ‘cause you  _had_ to?”

“Oh my God, you are worse than a girlfriend.” His eyes rolled, but it didn’t take much longer before he realized the best bet for him to get to bed was to appease you. “Okay, alright, stop.” He pried himself from your grip, so it would be possible to ditch his tee-shirt. Thank goodness he hadn’t dressed up to come get you, “I’ll stay, just stop whining- I’m tired.”

Perfect. With no further whimpering or protest, you used all your strength, managed to drag him onto the bed with you. Instantly, you curled around him, limbs tangled over his hips, arms thrown over his shoulders. “Thank you, Rafi,” he laughed, but nodded to try and convey his acceptance of your appreciation, so he didn’t even really notice when you moved up…

Before he had a chance to even question your squirming shifts leading up to the act, you rocked towards him, lips plumped- but, your drunken aim got the best of you, and the unexpected kiss didn’t find his pout… instead, you landed a peck just at the edge of his smirk.

Initially, he involuntarily sighed, until the circumstances surrounding your little surprise became all too clear; “Wha-” Rafael stammered, stuttered, then raised his chin just enough to slip away from the startling smooch. “N…” Through a downward glance, he regarded you: lovely, of course, but your furrowed brows, your barely opened eyes…

It’s not that he didn’t want to kiss you.  
No, of course not: actually, that couldn’t be any farther from the truth.  
But- Rafael did not want to kiss you, not like this.

You went to try again, but he stopped you, kindly, by laying the pad of his thumb over your lips. “No, Honey,” Sweetly, your dear friend combed your hair out of your face and tucked the unruly strands behind your ear. “You need to get sleep,” hoping to convince you to give up, he did return an innocent peck to your forehead, “you’re gonna feel like shit in the morning.”

Only slightly upset over the rejection, you obeyed, but helped yourself to leaving a few more random kisses on his throat. He ran a hand up and down your back, reassuringly, despite how he couldn’t bring himself to loosen the tenseness in his own shoulders- each time you pressed your lips to his skin, he had to hold his breath, to keep from trembling.

But, you didn’t notice that, you were far too distracted.  
By Coffee; by Rafi; they were both the perfect taste to lull you off to dreamland.

* * *

The next morning, you opened your eyes, only to groan and close them again.

“Hey, drunkie-” Rafael came in through your bedroom door, two cups of coffee in hand. “How’re you feeling?”

You covered yourself with the blankets, but did peek just a bit at the scent of coffee wafting your way. “Horrible,” the confession came with a whimper, but he only chuckled and sat on the edge of your bed. As he predicted, you came out of your cocoon at the promise of caffeine, and the headache began to pound inside your skull. “I don’t remember shit from last night, though… Why are you here?”

His brows bounced, and his bottom lip came out at a full plump- humor and pity. “Do you remember me meeting you at the bar?”

A sip of coffee, then you closed your eyes to try and rouse up some memories; “I recall being happy you were there.”

“Do you remember being a brat while I walked you home?”

“No,” you sat the cup down on a nightstand, dropped your face to your hands; “But I’m not exactly surprised to hear that.”

“Remember literally begging me to stay over?”

“Again, no, but not surprised.”

That was followed with silence, which, unlike his earlier revelations- was unpredicted. You raised your head, and squint, seeking his eyes for the source of his hesitation… but when he refused to catch your stare with his own, you flinched.

“Oh God,” you reached over, lay a hand on his leg, “did I say something embarrassing?”

Rafael blushed, took a long drink of his coffee, then rose to standing. Your palm fell from his pant leg and he gave you the most dramatic shrug you’ve ever seen. “Apparently that’s for  _me_  to know and you to  _not_  know…”

Your jaw went slack, and he ignored it, instead went to gather up his jacked. “Rafi, that is SO not fair, what did I say?”

“Oh stop it, you didn’t say anything,” that was true, after all, and he was more than happy to utilize semantics in said situation. “I have stuff to do, will you be home all day? I won’t have time for lunch so maybe we can grab dinner or something? I hate going to restaurants alone, the waitresses all look at me like I’m a puppy in a pound…”

Well, at least whatever he was keeping secret wasn’t something he was particularly torn up over. “Sounds great,” you dismissed him by wiggling fingertips his way, while enjoying the rest of your coffee. “I’ll see ya later, thanks for everything, Rafi…”

* * *

Once outside your apartment, and confident he had shut the door behind him, Rafael let out a heavy exhale of air. To be honest, he didn’t have anything to do that day, but he definitely needed some time alone, to consider…

And he did just that, in the solace of his solitude, by pressing his thumb against the corner of his smirk- just touching that precise spot, the inch of skin he could never forget now, sent a shiver down his spine. 

You had kissed him. You, his dearest and closest friend, in the midst of your sloppy state- you had  _kissed_  him. Thinking back to that moment, when he was alongside you, as you two have so innocently done so very many times before… he still could picture it exactly in his mind: you, rocking up, you, surprising him by moving even closer, you, blessing him with a sweet little peck of affection.

It was a mistake, though.  
As was even slightly entertaining the feelings he had for you.

Rafael had to think back, to that cold day, when he taught you the meaning of cacoethes; in order to battle  _irresistable urge to do something inadvisable_ , to go back and try to place a little smooch in precisely the same tiny spot you had bestowed on him…

But, he wouldn’t. No, he couldn’t do that…   
As much as he wanted to, as he has for so long-

Because Rafael would rather rot in his desires than risk losing the friendship you two shared.

So, instead, during the short stroll to his own apartment, Rafael kept his hand over his cheek, so he could praise and protect that Holy inch of skin right that had been touched by your lips; in order to keep from forgetting the magic he’d never be able to perform with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: I don’t speak Spanish. I google-translated any Spanish, feel free to correct me. Also: You/Reader don’t know much Spanish in this go, either.


End file.
